


Who knows why?

by Littlebitobsessed



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Charity Musings, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:47:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22696603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Littlebitobsessed/pseuds/Littlebitobsessed
Summary: Charity reflects on the beginning of her relationship with Vanessa.
Relationships: Charity Dingle/Vanessa Woodfield
Comments: 2
Kudos: 43





	Who knows why?

**Author's Note:**

> First Vanity fic and first one on this site although I have been writing on another site for a few years now.

I don’t know why I did it. Just did, didn’t I? She was just looking at me and I thought I saw something different. Like she saw through all my crap and actually saw me. When I snapped the mask onto her face that’s all I meant to do. I was just going to laugh it off and move back to my spot on the barrels, but something made me stop. It was the way she was sat perfectly still breathing so shallow that she almost wasn’t. So, I kissed her.

I didn’t mean to do it so gently. In fact, I was expecting to kiss her hard, I was expecting her to slap me and I was expecting some comment about her being just as boring as I expected to come out of my gob. But it didn’t. Something deep inside me made me gently lift her chin and share the softest, gentlest kiss I’ve ever had. Something inside me told me that this was important to do right, that I should make this memorable, that this meant something.

The next morning when she panicked and left the cellar, I don’t know why I tried to help her lie to paddy instead of shouting to the world what had gone on the night before behind that locked door. Ok so that’s a lie, I do know. It’s because I realised that, as amazing as our night on that chair in the cellar had been, it meant something completely different to Vanessa. To me it was a fun night with someone who could kiss like nobody I’ve ever known. To Vanessa it was a night spent with a woman doing something definitely not straight and she liked it, even though she didn’t want to like it because that would mean something that she couldn’t even begin to think about.

I didn’t intend on kissing her again never mind inviting her up to my room. It just sort of happened. She came flying in panicking about me telling people or something but while she was ranting and huffing, I could see that her problem wasn’t with me but with the part of her brain that found me attractive. I was fully intending on letting her say her piece then leaving it all in the past, but I just couldn’t, could I? I could see her fighting herself and trying to make that part of her go away, trying not to remember running her hands through my hair and trying to feel all of me through my clothes on that damn chair. I could see she was panicking, trying to run from what she was feeling, or wanted to feel, and I couldn’t let her do that. Couldn’t let her live her life not at least knowing what she was missing. So, I took her upstairs and made sure her first time with a woman was something special, something she could look back on and not regret, even if it was with me.

I don’t know why I let her stay the night and I certainly don’t know why I pulled her close to me before we drifted off to sleep. She just felt so good against me and so I pulled her to lay partially on top of me when I sensed her start to panic and begin to leave my bed. Her skin was so soft that I don’t think it would be possible for anybody to not want to touch it just a little longer and her hair, oh god her hair, it smelled like tropical fruits and I couldn’t help but bury my nose in it as we drifted off to sleep. I’d normally kick people out of bed once I’d had my fun with them, but this felt different. She looked at me like she actually wanted me, like I was worthy of her attention, not just someone to scratch her itch, not just someone for her to experiment with. I just needed her touch; I needed her hands to not leave my body like they hadn’t since we had made it to my bed. I couldn’t help myself considering she looked like a goddess and felt amazing curled against me naked as the day she was born.

I don’t know why I tried to bring her a cup of tea in bed and I don’t know why it hurt so much seeing her trying to sneak out. I mean I should have known she wouldn’t want to spend one more second with me when she came to her senses. Did I seriously think that she could possibly have any interest in me? It was like a slap in the face seeing her trying to get away from me as fast as possible. I should have seen it coming. I should have known that yes, she may have just realised that she likes women but why on earth would she make it difficult for herself and choose to like this woman? I know now that she just panicked. I mean she had, in the space of two evenings/nights/mornings in my company, gone from in denial that she even found women attractive (and being unbelievably pissed at me) to waking up having spent the night doing some very not straight things with me (a woman who she was clearly at least a little attracted to).

I don’t know why I outed her in the bar. Actually, I do. I couldn’t stand her thinking she had to hide or deny that part of her. I knew that if I did that then I would probably never get to touch her again, but I couldn’t let her lie to herself. I needed her to be happy and true to herself even if it wasn’t with me. Yeah, I probably shouldn’t have done it, she wasn’t ready, and it wasn’t my secret to tell, but if I didn’t, I don’t think she would have ever come out and that would just be a shame for lesbians and bisexuals everywhere. Anyway, whatever my reasons for any of the above, I guess it worked out ok in the end. 

I totally know why I asked her to be my wife, but I seriously haven’t the foggiest why she said yes.


End file.
